Conversations
by Jellas
Summary: Gene and Alex are stuck in a car all night on a stakeout. What shall they do to amuse themselves? Rated T for Gene Hunt being himself.
1. Chapter 1

**10.46pm**

"Diana Dors."

"I really can't think of anyon... Harrison Ford"

"Lemme think. Claudia Cardinale"

"Who?"

"Italian bird. Pair of beautiful tits."

"You're taking twitching to a whole new exotic level there, Guv."

"Great species, Italian birds. Eat a lot of pasta. Got extra insulation in all the right places."

**12.09am**

"It's been hours and nothing's changed. Are you even sure he's in the building?"

"Why? Bored are ya? Could think of interesting ways to pass the time, Bols."

"I'm not that desperate yet, Gene."

"Now, now, Bolly. Your words would hurt a smaller man."

"Are you calling yourself a _larger_ man, Guv? On second thoughts, don't answer that."

"Hey, _you _mentioned it..."

**1.23am**

"Cavemen. No thinking time, just _smack_. One hit and the noncey astronaut's out cold."

"But an astronaut's got intelligence, cunning. Their thinking is more involved, they can strategize, organise. They don't need brute force to win."

"Their hearts are not in it. They've got no instincts, no raw emotions. In a fight it's always about the heart."

"A caveman's brain is primitive, Gene. An astronaut's brain is more evolved. In any situation the brain is the most important organ."

"I've got an even more important organ."

"My God! Do you always have to drag the conversation to the gutter?"

"If it gets us out of this ridiculous conversation, then, yes!"

**2.47am**

"Guv, wake up. Your snoring might set off some car alarms."

"I do not snore!"

"Sure you don't... there's drool on your window."

**3.31am**

"Gene, if you can't think of any jokes that don't involve Welsh or Irish people going in to a bar, then I don't want to hear it."

"Yes missus woman. So, three darkies go into a pub..."

**4.22am**

"Whiskey, Bolls?"

"Not unless we've got something else to do."

There's always rock-paper-scissors.

"I've always hated that game. You'll never get me to play rock-paper-scissors. Give me the whiskey."

**5.58am**

"Rock beats paper. I win."

**7.03am**

"Sun's rising, Bolls. Looks like Jones didn't take the bait after all."

**8.15am**

"Good morning ma'am, did the stake out go well?"

"Yes, Shaz. I do believe it did."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks to all for your lovely reviews. This fic was originally intended to be a oneshot, yet, due to (semi) popular demand, here we are.

Gene and Alex are spending another night together on surveillance. Henceforth, I present:

**CONVERSATIONS PART 2 – Return of the Boredom**

* * *

**9.52pm**

"Not all male ballet dancers are gay, Gene"

"They're all a big bunch of poofs. They wear tights. Christ."

"A lot of strong, masculine men wear tights. Even kings used to wear tights back in the day, Henry the Eighth for instance, and he had six wi—"

"Hundreds of years ago, Bolly"

"...And you have to be fairly strong to lift a woman straight up in the air light that. Some have very defined muscles..."

"I've lifted you plenty of times. And _I _wasn't wearing tights"

**10.37pm**

"I'm just pointing out,_ Gene_, that if you persist in breaking down strangers' doors you shouldn't be surprised if there's an angry dog on the other side of it. And, no, showing me your bite again will not get me to change my mind on the matter!"

**11.57pm**

"He is guilty as sin! God, your ego is so large that you let it stand in the way of perhaps realising someone else might be right!"

"No, I'm agreeing with you"

"You never listen to any of my psyc— what?"

**1.05am**

"No, no, a flush is five cards of the same suite, a straight is five cards of different suites in order and a flush beats a straight"

"Well, this is ridiculous, how the hell am I going to remember all that? Why don't we pick a game that we're both familiar with?"

"Fine, you choose sulky-knickers!"

**1.30am**

"Do you have an eight?"

"Go fish"

**2.51am**

"One day you'll be chasing some bastard and you'll fall down and break an ankle on those towers you wear on your feet and when that happens you can't come crawling to cry on _my_ shoulder."

**3.42am**

"Wakey wakey Drakey"

"Wha—Did you draw on my face?"

"If you choose to sleep on the job, I choose your punishment"

"What on earth did you use?... _Is that my new Chanel lipstick_?"

**4.56am**

"I see a light on upstairs. It's Jones. "

"What's he up to?"

"Oh, that's interesting."

"Hand over the binoculars, Drake... Oh, that's disgusting!"

"Look what he's got in his hand"

"I don't want to look at that!"

"His other hand, Gene"

"Let's get him... Once he puts some clothes on"

**6.37am**

"How's the back, Guv?"

"I don't need your sympathy, Detective Inspector"

"You could have done yourself some damage, a man of your age taking a fall like that"

"Are you calling me old?"

"No, no, not like that... I'm sure you'll catch Jones another night."


	3. Chapter 3

_Oh dear, has it really been that long since the last update? I do apologise._

**CONVERSATIONS PART 3 **

* * *

**10.10pm**

"You really enjoy talking from where the sun don't shine, Bols. Why would anyone carry around portable telephones when there's enough phone boxes in London? "

**11.58pm**

"It's an Oscar Wilde quote, Guv."

"Oscar Wilde was a great dandy poof."

"He was a literary genius."

"He broke the law, never got punished for it, mind. Ended up getting a great big rodgering in prison and enjoyed himself!"

**1.06am**

"He really in this shithole, Bolly?"

"Richard Jones told us he was; it's the only intelligence we've got."

"Intelligence? The only intelligent part of Mr Dick Jones is his appendix which had the great sense to abandon ship!"

**2.12am**

"Guv, it's Jones... I think... or maybe..."

"Greg O'Neil. I'd know him anywhere. Typical bloody American, wide as a broomstick, Tippex teeth and nothing in his pants!"

"I suppose you've done research on the latter, Guv?"

"Not on your nelly, Drake."

**2.58am**

"You licked the electrical plug?"

"I was sloshed, Bolly."

"Knowing how you drink, I'm surprised you didn't burst in to flames!"

**3.15am**

"Gene Hunt the Mancunian Lion owns Jane Fonda's workout video?"

"Great workout, Drake. You sit in front of the telly with your bowl of chips and Jane gets your blood pumping to all the right places."

**4.09am**

"Well, Bols. Jones is not here and I'm dying for a slosh. Let the skinny and the curly haired pair of tossers take over in the morning. G'night Drake."

"Good night Gene."


End file.
